Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Micronesia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Wings to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Names. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Alarm Clocks,
Surgeon,
The Smiths,
LL Cool J,
The American Breed,
Iggy Pop,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mummies,
Stiv Bators,
Ornette Coleman,
Howard Jones,
Junior Murvin,
Wire,
The Pop Group,
The Music Machine,
Maleditus Sound,
Oblivians,
Cecil Taylor,
Banda Bassotti,
Severed Heads,
The Barracudas,
Rotary Connection,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
Marcia Griffiths,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
Symarip,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
T. Rex,
Panda Bear,
Max Romeo,
Popol Vuh,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Bananas,
John Lydon,
X-Ray Spex,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cramps,
Sugar Minott,
Skarface,
Suicide,
The Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Residents,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cure,
Dead Boys,
Trumans Water,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Searchers,
Los Fastidios,
X-102,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Spandau Ballet,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mojo Men,
The Move,
Laurel Aitken,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.